


the place where flames go to drown

by glockmemoir



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), everyone who works for jm is deceptively cute, pcy is suffering bc of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glockmemoir/pseuds/glockmemoir
Summary: Chanyeol had completely sworn off using his fire when he learned about how destructive it could be. Now, though, with tensions rising in the wake of the fall of Hyrath, he is forced to reconcile with the part of himself he wishes he never had.And the world is at stake.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. one.

He shouldn’t be here. 

The floorboards creak under his footsteps, the hallway silent and dark, illuminated only by the wall lights sparsely placed next to each door. Chanyeol would’ve assumed that a building this expensive would have better lighting. But then again, this is the basement. It’s dark for a reason. 

He shouldn’t be here. 

He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, the gun holstered at his right hip a welcome, grounding weight as he makes sure that there’s no one behind him, following him. He’s not in the mood for any more surprises. The last time he came here was more than enough to last him the rest of the year. The hallway is empty. And cold. Chanyeol is glad he wore a blazer, even if it wouldn’t be on him for long. 

He shouldn’t be here. 

His heart is beating rapidly in his chest, in his neck, his temples, his wrists. It’s like his whole body is thumping as one, anticipating, terrified. Excited? Even in the air conditioned hallway, chanyeol sweats right through his white dress shirt, through his expensive blazer. He hopes his clammy hands don’t wilt the bouquet of flowers in hand prematurely. 

He shouldn’t be here. 

But he shoves that fact to the back of his mind once he reaches the sixth apartment door from the elevator, right at the corner before the hallway splits in two. He raises his hand- the empty one, maybe he should’ve also brought chocolates- and knocks precisely seven times, his other hand squeezing around the bouquet of gardenias and honeysuckles.

He shouldn’t be here. 

The door opens after precisely seventy seconds, revealing a small, slender man with flaming red hair and water in his veins. He's smiling, and the small light next to the door makes his eyes glitter. Cute, deceptively so. Only chanyeol knows the danger lurking beneath them. 

The small man reaches out an equally small hand, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. The smile never leaves his face. 

“You came,” He says, and he really, really shouldn’t have. 

But one look at his small lover’s face erases any thought that isn’t  _ Junmyeon Junmyeon Junmyeon _ . The effect is only doubled when he tiptoes to kiss him, small hands grabbing his face to match his height, his own coming to circle around his lover’s tiny, tiny waist. The plastic around the bouquet noisily rubs against Junmyeon's t-shirt. It’s the only thing he has on. 

“Of course I came.” And he really, really shouldn’t have. 

Junmyeon beams up at him when he says this, water gushing in from the kitchen faucet and filling the basin. The water main should be off. 

Chanyeol really, really shouldn’t be here. 

The living room is messy when Junmyeon all but pushes him onto the couch (after he takes his flowers and places them on the coffee table in a surprising show of gentleness), straddling his lap. Chanyeol is sitting on at least three different blankets, and there are empty take out containers resting on the coffee table, along with a pocket knife and leather-bound journal. The love seat is a mess of pillows and bedsheets, and a lone teddy bear is being strangled by the flat sheet. He didn’t even notice that the television was on, but his view is blocked by the redhead in his lap, demanding his attention. 

“I’ve missed you.” It’s kissed onto his lips, small, chubby fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s been  _ so long  _ since you last visited me.” Chanyeol needs to tell him something. 

He begins to kiss the man in his lap back when he feels water trickling down the back of his neck, dampening his collar. “I’m sorry.”

“How about you show me how sorry you are?” Junmyeon articulates this with a grind of his hips. “Since you’ve made me wait for so long.” Chanyeol needs to tell him something. 

“Jun, wait-“

“Maybe I should just take care of myself, hm? Make you watch? You haven’t been the nicest to me-“

“Jun-“

“What?” Junmyeon’s eyes flash, glowing blue for the smallest fraction of a second. “What is it?”

More water drips down the back of his neck. “I need- we gotta talk- ah- Junmyeon,  _ please _ -“

“I’m listening.” And no, he really, really isn’t, if the way he’s gone back to grinding above him says anything. 

“Jun, I’m serious. I got followed home from the subway, yesterday.” 

Junmyeon pauses, staring wide-eyed at him, still straddling his hips. “And you’re just  _ now _ telling me? Is that the first time that happened?”

“Well, to be fair, you never gave me the chance to,” Chanyeol says, gesturing to where Junmyeon is  _ still  _ straddling him. “But yesterday was the only time it happened. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“My safety should be the least of your concerns, darling.” Junmyeon’s eyes flash blue again, a malicious smile spreading across his face. “I can handle myself. You of all people should know that.” More water drips down the back of his neck, down his back. 

“I know,” Chanyeol sighs. “Just- you haven’t pissed anyone off, have you?” 

“Not recently,” Junmyeon taps his chin with a small, chubby finger. “Why would anyone go after you, though? No one knows about us, about _you_.”

“Jun, I’ve been coming to and leaving your apartments for about a year, now. Anyone keeping tabs on you would’ve picked up on that by now.” Chanyeol eyes the bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table. They should get them a vase, soon. 

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t wanna come over anymore? Is that what this is? Is that why you brought me these flowers?” Junmyeon’s eyes narrow when he uses an arm to reach behind himself to grab said flowers, the other deadlocked on the side of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol’s back is drenched. Maybe he should’ve waited to bring this up. 

“No, no, not at all,” Chanyeol rushes to reassure him. “We just need to be more careful.  _ I  _ need to be more careful.” And maybe not come here as often. Junmyeon doesn’t need to know that, though. 

Junmyeon’s eyes are still blue, but they soften ever so slightly after a moment or two. “Tell me  _ immediately _ if anything else happens, okay?”

At chanyeol’s nod, Junmyeon goes back to swiveling his hips, kissing and licking and biting along the length of Chanyeol’s neck. A cold, wet hand starts to push his blazer off his shoulders, unbuttoning his dress shirt (“you dressed up so nicely for me”), trailing down his chest-

The front door opens and slams shut, and it spooks Chanyeol so much that he throws Junmyeon off of his lap and snatches his gun from its holster, swiveling around to point it at the figure in the doorway, his chest heaving and heart rabbiting in his chest. Junmyeon lands on the floor with a loud “oof”. 

“hey man,  _ relax _ . I live here.” The man stands with his hands up, and Chanyeol guesses that he might be Junmyeon’s height, if not only slightly taller. “Or, well, at least for the time being.”

“Chanyeol, meet Jongdae,” Junmyeon groans from where he's sat on the floor. Chanyeol’s hackles are still raised. “He was  _ supposed  _ to stay out until you left.”

Jongdae warily makes his way over to the living area, his arms still raised. He smiles when Chanyeol lowers his gun. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Chanyeol hates surprises. 

“Why are you here, Jongdae? What part of  _ I have a guest coming over  _ did you not understand?” Junmyeon is standing up, now, and he’s got a hand rubbing his lower back. Right. Chanyeol apologetically massages it for him.

“Baek cancelled, so I came back. I called you,” Jongdae replies with his nose scrunched, disgust written all over his face. “I guess you were too busy  _ fucking on my bed _ to hear it, you slut.”

Junmyeon’s eyes narrow, but they’re brown, not blue. He’s not actually upset. “My couch. This is  _ my  _ couch. I can do as I please on it,” he then turns to Chanyeol, his eyes noticeably softer. “I’m sorry, ignore him.”

Jongdae squawks. “Don’t ignore me!”

“How do you two know each other?” Chanyeol is suddenly reminded of the fact that Junmyeon has no pants on when he feels the band of his briefs through his t-shirt. He clears his throat. “Or how long, if that’s a better question.”

“He works for me,” Junmyeon starts. “His building got compromised, so he’s staying here until he finds another place.” And, that makes sense. Jongdae is also deceptively cute.  _ Of course _ he works for Junmyeon.

“We’re also cousins,” Jongdae says, sunnily. Junmyeon rolls his eyes next to him, grumpily muttering “yes, yes,  _ we’re also cousins _ ” under his breath. Chanyeol pats his head. 

“Oh! And that reminds me,” Jongdae’s face gets suddenly serious, so quickly that Chanyeol’s head spins. “I need to talk to you.”

Junmyeon sighs. “No, Jongdae, Baekhyun  can’t spend the night, again. Last time you guys-”

“This isn’t about Baekhyun, or, well, it kinda is, but not that,” Jongdae says. He steps closer to Junmyeon. His eyes are a bright yellow, and for some reason, it reminds Chanyeol of batteries. “Someone broke into his office last night.”

“What? Is he okay? He wasn’t in it, was he?” Junmyeon’s eyes are glowing blue again. Water sloshes around audibly in the pipes. “What the  _ fuck _ .”

“No, no, he wasn’t in it. He’s fine. Pissed off, but fine nonetheless,” Jongdae sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But isn’t that a little suspicious? It’s sealed. No one should even know where it  _ is _ , let alone be able to get into it, and this is a month to the date since my place got compromised. This can’t be a coincidence.”

Chanyeol suddenly remembers that his shirt is unbuttoned when the air conditioning turns on. Junmyeon turns to him right as he starts to re-button it. “And you said someone followed you home yesterday, correct?” Chanyeol nods, hands still working on his stubborn buttons. “You think it’s the Horde?”

The Horde. Chanyeol’s heard of them, seen the ‘H’s and anarchy symbols spray painted in deep purples and blood reds along every government building. Chanyeol’s never come in contact with them- he doesn’t actively use magic anymore, so there’s been no reason for him to- and he can’t say he’s upset about it. Dark magic has always scared him. 

“It’s gotta be. I’d watch over your boyfriend, if I were you,” Jongdae glances at him. “It sounds like they might try to go after him, too .”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Junmyeon says. Chanyeol bites back a sigh when Jongdae gives him a sympathetic look. He’s used to it. 

“Well, still. We don’t want another… incident,” Jongdae sighs. “And what are we gonna do about Baek? He doesn’t wanna go back to his office, now.”

“Can’t he just work from here?” Chanyeol asks. It sounds like an obvious solution. “I mean, you do  _ own _ this building. Can’t you just give him a room or something?”

Junmyeon gives him a look. “And have all of us working under one roof? No thanks. If the Horde attacks us we’ll all be goners.”

“That, and they know this building exists. They don’t know that it’s  _ Junmyeon _ who owns it, but if they catch Baek coming and going from here, they’d probably put two and two together.” And, okay, Jongdae has a point there. 

“I’ll call Minseok tomorrow,” Junmyeon rubs his eyes with a tiny fist, and the contrast between the horny man that was grinding on him all of ten minutes ago and him now is… interesting, to say the least. “Baekhyun can just work remotely, for now. He’s just monitoring the borders, anyway.”

“I’ll call him now, then,” Jongdae says, before grabbing his phone and stepping into the hallway. Chanyeol watches him leave before turning to junmyeon. “Is your friend gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Junmyeon grabs his wrist, starts walking him over to his bedroom. “I need a nap.”

“But, Jongdae-”

“Will also be fine. No one can get down here without a passcode, magic or not. He’ll be  _ fine _ . I’m sleepy,” Junmyeon pouts up at him. The bastard knows that Chanyeol would die for him if he asked. “Nap with me?”

Chanyeol sighs, and allows Junmyeon to pull him to his bedroom. They both know it would’ve happened, anyway. 

⚑

Chanyeol doesn’t always hate going to work. 

It’s the commute that's the worst of it. Ever since the war, the streets have been in disarray. Everyone’s fending for themselves, and there’s been an influx of strays that have been brought into the shelter that he works at. The war left their little country in shambles. 

The subway groans as it takes off, overcrowded and understaffed. Chanyeol purposely stands over a group of girls that have been shying away from a creepy man that looks twice  _ his _ age, and one of them gives him a grateful smile. It smells like metal and weed, and there’s a suspicious dark purple cloud of smoke that Chanyeol spots over the horizon, northwards. It looms, ominous, foreshadowing, promising. The Horde is advancing. 

The sky is clear and blue, the sun high and oppressive once he steps off the train. There used to be soldiers stationed at the exits of all the subway stations, before the war, but now the exits are barren, the metal detectors beaten and battered, and thieves and dark magic users lurk in the shadows. Everyone keeps their heads down, aiming for uniformity and invisibility, and Chanyeol's right hand rests on his hip, above his gun. He hopes he doesn’t have to use it today. 

Travis meets him on the other side of the exit. Travis is a coworker, and he’s short and black. They’re a lot alike, both have an affinity for animals and a strange relationship with magic, and they get along well. Travis is a few years younger than him, barely a teenager when the war started, and so Chanyeol’s become quite protective over him. They always aim for the same shifts, so Chanyeol can walk with him to work, and fight off anyone that comes at them sideways. 

Travis is quiet, as he always is, as he walks alongside Chanyeol. He comes up to Chanyeol’s chin, which is convenient, and it allows Chanyeol to look around them unobstructed. He’s been a bit wary of his surroundings ever since he’d been followed the other day. Travis gives him a questioning glance, but keeps quiet until they reach the shelter. Chanyeol is glad for that. 

Jongin is behind the counter when they enter the brick shelter. He gives the two of them a tight-lipped smile as a greeting before taking Travis to the back, where they typically care for new rescues. Travis had been training to be a vet under their previous one, who had died during the war. 

The shelter is clean, because they all keep it that way. The floors are linoleum, freshly mopped, and Chanyeol’s sneakers squeak as he makes his way over to the counter. They very rarely get customers, anymore, but one of them has to be there in the event they do. 

Chanyeol regrets that the windows face the East. It seemed like a great idea at first, using passive solar energy to heat the lobby, but now it's stifling, oppressive, and it makes Chanyeol damp under his collar. The blue skies are so deceptive, so full of artifice, in that they try to make you believe that everything is okay, that everything is fine. In reality, it’s fall, almost winter, and the only reason that it’s so goddamn  _ hot _ is because of all the chemicals in the atmosphere turning their world into a giant greenhouse, a direct consequence of the war. 

There’s a gas station directly across the street from their shelter, and Chanyeol gets a front row seat of a guy getting jumped by a local street gang. There’s an old tailor’s shop right next to it, and the owner is angrily waving a broom at the group, trying to break them up from a distance. They’re probably slowing what little business he gets. Chanyeol understands. 

Travis comes back into the lobby. “Someone brought in a pregnant tabby this morning,” he’s grabbing a broom. The floors are clean. Chanyeol stays silent. “Correction: someone brought in a tabby cat who is in  _ labor _ , this morning. The backroom looks like a crime scene.”

Chanyeol scrunches his nose. “Fun.”

Travis smiles at him, cute and mischievous. “I’m making Jongin clean it up.”

“He’s older than you, you know,” Chanyeol says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why must you make him suffer so much?”

Travis shrugs, smug and satisfied, before he starts to sweep around the lobby. He’s singing softly to himself, and it’s calming, soothing, and it allows Chanyeol to just… relax. 

But then someone comes in. 

He’s short and buff, like he’d been a soldier, and he’s dressed from head to toe in black. He’s got a mask on (which makes sense, Hyrath’s air quality isn’t the greatest) that hides a majority of his face, but Chanyeol can see his severe eyebrows, since his head is buzzed. He gives Travis an acknowledging nod, then zeroes in on Chanyeol, his eyes squinting and calculating. Chanyeol is sweating again, and this time, it’s not from the heat. 

The man then takes two steps towards him, and he’s staring (glaring) at Chanyeol the entire time, he never breaks eye contact. If he were taller, Chanyeol would be terrified. He looks angry, hostile, and Chanyeol has half a mind to tell Travis to go to the back. The weight of the gun at his hip is comforting. 

And then the man takes his mask off, revealing a  _ smile _ . 

And it’s unexpectedly adorable, his lips heart-shaped and his eyes forming crescents. His harsh, severe exterior is all but gone, replaced with someone who looks like they haven’t aged since highschool, never seen a bad thing in his life. The stark contrast makes Chanyeol’s head spin. 

“Chanyeol,” the man says, and his voice is deeper than Chanyeol had expected it to be, he takes a pair of round glasses from his back pocket and puts them on. They make him look like a librarian. “I’m so glad I’ve found you.”

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow at him. “And you are…?”

The stranger stares at him, confused, before an obvious lightbulb goes off in his head.  _ Seriously, what’s up with this guy? _

“I am Kyungsoo,” the man-  _ Kyungsoo _ says. Chanyeol hasn’t heard anyone say  _ I am _ since he was in second grade, learning how to introduce himself. “I um… I work for… Suho.”

Suho?

Who is…..

_ Oh. _

That makes sense. Kyungsoo is cute, Jongdae is cute,  _ Junmyeon _ is cute, of  _ course _ they work together. Chanyeol would straighten up, but his back is already ramrod straight from  _ Kyungsoo’s _ … interesting entrance. He doesn’t relax. This is one of Junmyeon’s men, which means that either something has happened, or is about to happen. “I’m guessing you aren’t here for a dog, then.”

“Oh, I am! But I also need to talk to you,” Kyungsoo takes a glance at Travis, who instantly makes himself scarce. Chanyeol doesn’t blame him. “Su- Junmyeon told me that the Horde might be lurking around here. Has anyone… suspicious come in, lately?”

_ Yeah, you _ sounds a little harsh, so Chanyeol bites it back. “No one really comes in unless they’re dropping off a stray, and I’m usually not here in the mornings. Travis or Jongin would probably be able to give you a better answer.”

Kyungsoo stares at him. The glasses make his big eyes look even bigger.  _ Deceptively cute _ . “Do they know that you’re being followed? Or that this building is being watched? Their lives could be in danger.”

“They’d be of very little importance to the Horde. Jun only knows _of_ Jongin, and I’ve been purposefully keeping Travis  _ away _ from him.” Chanyeol made a vow to protect him, and he refuses to break it. “I doubt that the Horde has any interest in them, if that’s who followed me home the other day.”

The fact that they’re discussing this so openly in the shelter’s lobby is starting to dawn on them. The lobby is empty aside from them, of course, but it’s also the most public and least protected part of the building. Chanyeol ushers Kyungsoo (he’s shorter without the counter separating them, about the same height as Junmyeon) towards the back, where the dogs are. 

They don’t keep the dogs in cages, like most shelters do. Instead, they’re kept in a small room with an enclosure, so that they can move around. The room used to be part of the shop next door, but its owner died, and his family refused to take over in his stead (the implications of that are… scary to think about), so they knocked out the separating wall and gave that room to the dogs. The cats are in a similar space, though slightly smaller, since they don’t move around as much. 

It's smelly, but Kyungsoo doesn’t seem too put off by it. Jongin is petting a Labrador when they enter the room, but he excuses himself when Kyungsoo gives him a look. Right, Kyungsoo is also kinda scary looking. 

“Listen, I don’t know how much you know about the Horde, but they don’t care how useful or important you may or may not be to them. They attack any and everyone,” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow, and his eyes flash green as he glares up at Chanyeol. “Jongdae and I- you’ve met Jongdae, right?” Chanyeol nods. “Junmyeon wants Jongdae and I to keep watch around here for the next couple of weeks, just to-”

“Keep watch?” Chanyeol doesn’t remember Junmyeon asking him if that was okay. “We’re  _ fine _ . I’ve got my gun, Jongin knows like three types of martial arts-”

“Dark magic, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo’s voice gets lower when he gets agitated, Chanyeol learns. “A gun,  _ martial arts _ , will be no match against dark magic, trust me.”

“But we don’t  _ need _ -”

“None of you are magic users, Chanyeol, you’re all inerts. If something were to happen- and something  _ will  _ happen- none of you would be able to protect yourselves.” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him, and he’s completely wrong. Just because he chooses  _ not _ to use magic, doesn’t mean that he  _ can’t _ . And, as much as he would rather be an inert (and he  _ desperately _ wishes that he was born an inert), he isn’t, and that fact haunts him, hanging over his head like it’s his own personal storm cloud.

Bad memories. 

But Kyungsoo doesn’t know that, and neither does Junmyeon, so he smiles at him, surrendering, and they discuss stake-out locations until Kyungsoo has to take his leave. He doesn’t end up adopting a dog. Chanyeol thinks it's for the best.

⚑

The city of Hyrath has five neighborhoods: Fallen Heights (where Chanyeol lives), Lost Foundry (where Junmyeon lives), Sunken Hill, Old Downtown (where the shelter is), and Ruined Hallow, where the Horde stronghold (allegedly) is. Old Downtown was the first to fall during the war, and it is the most dangerous neighborhood at night. Chanyeol walks with his hand directly resting on his gun, just in case. 

He always walks Travis home first, since he lives on the outskirts of Old Downtown, close to the subway station. Travis walks on his left side, and he’s got a hand around his arm, a safety precaution (if he sees something- or someone- suspicious, and doesn’t want whatever- or whoever- he sees to get alarmed, he can tug on Chanyeol’s arm). They’ve had enough incidents on their walks home to last them a lifetime.

The streets are unnervingly quiet. It’s currently half past seven, yet it feels darker and eerier, anticipating, like the neighborhood is holding its breath. Only the streetlamps are on, and it makes Travis huddle closer. When Chanyeol looks over at him, his eyes are wide, and he’s frantically looking around them, like he’s searching for something. Or someone. 

Then, there are footsteps coming from behind them. 

Travis has a vice-like grip on his arm, and Chanyeol already has his fingers curled around his gun, ready to pull it out if need be. The footsteps neither speed up, nor slow down, just stay at a constant, unnervingly steady speed. It sounds like the person behind them is wearing boots, and it adds weight to the sound of the footsteps, amplified whenever the person steps on a twig or leaf. They’re close to Travis’s apartment, barely even a block away, now, but there’s no way that he’s gonna take Travis there, not when they’re being followed. 

Then the person starts whistling. 

It’s a constant sound, like the footsteps, and the person doesn’t stop to breathe, just continues to whistle out a singular note. Travis is shaking, now, and a bead of sweat drips down the back of Chanyeol’s neck, down the length of his back. His nerves are on fire, and there’s the telltale signs of heat simmering under his skin, in his fingertips, the kind that he hates. He can feel the air start to shift, buzzing, like the atoms around them feel the fire burning within him, radiating off of him, and they start to shake and dance and vibrate. Travis can feel it too, and Chanyeol can feel the magic coming off of him, too. The little flowers lining the dilapidated concrete that they walk on start to wilt in the exchange of energy. 

Then, he feels it. 

Something yanks Travis away from him, hurling him into the side of what used to be a grocery store. There’s a man standing behind them, dressed in all black, but he’s different from Kyungsoo. He’s tall and broad, lean and lithe, aggressive and antagonizing, and he ducks away from the bullets Chanyeol hails on him with the grace of a swan. His eyes glow a deep, dark purple under the dim streetlamps, and the tips of his fingers match them when he raises his hands, ready to cast another spell. 

He’s part of the Horde, and Chanyeol is under attack. 


	2. two.

The war started with the assasination of President White. 

President White was a stout man, white, with white hair and black suits. He always wore black suits, like he was attending a funeral everytime he appeared to the public. He always frowned, never smiled, and he looked like he was melting all the time, like all life was constantly being drained from him. It was a member of the Horde that took him out. 

The Horde moves in silence, in shadows, where they can see all, and none can see them. The horde member in front of him moves out from under the streetlamp, so Chanyeol can no longer see him, doesn’t know where he is, and he can’t move. 

Travis groans from where he’s laid out on the ground, and Chanyeol has half a mind to go stand over him, to protect him, but he’s rooted to where he stands. He’s not sure whether or not it’s because he’s scared or he’s been cursed to. 

Shadows start dancing around him, and the combination of their movements lapping at his arms and fingers and face with the buzzing that’s starting inside of him makes his head spin and throb painfully in his temples. A shadow passes through him, and the unexpected pain that the movement causes him forces a cry out of his mouth, and he wants to collapse, but he’s being forced upright. Another passes through him, and another. It’s so  _ painful _ , in a way that is unexplainable and sharp, like the spikes of the violins in the crescendo of a horror movie. Travis is screaming again, but Chanyeol can’t see him, he can only hear his pained cries and fruitless struggles. 

There’s a fire within him that grows and grows, raging against the dark magic trying to kill him, to tear him apart and eat at his soul, and it feels as though he’s being torched from the inside out. 

Then, he burns. 

It’s beautiful and destructive, fire is untamable and wild and glorious. The shadows dancing around him screech as they start to boil and vaporize, and the Horde member is thrown onto his back from the force of Chanyeol’s blaze. He can’t get up, it seems, and Chanyel takes advantage of it, hurling a bright, fiery orange ball right where the man lays, and the cry he is rewarded with is melodic, gratifying. 

But one thing about the Horde, is that they heal and recover fast. 

Chanyeol wastes no time in striking at the man again, this time with a bright, fiery dagger, right into his left side. Then another, into the same place, and another, where his heart would be. The man screams and screams and  _ screams _ , and Chanyeol is drunk on the high it provides him. He grabs the man by the burnt lapels of his blazer, curling a hand around his throat, and watches the life drain from his purple eyes as Chanyeol burns him to death. He barely registers the smell of burning flesh, or the howls and wails of the shadows still trying (and failing) to eat away at him, no, he’s still hot and burning, ready to-

“Channie?” Travis’s voice is quiet, small, and pained, and Chanyeol immediately cools down and runs over to him, crouching over him. “Channie?”

“I’m right here, buddy,” Chanyeol says, grabbing Travis’s outstretched hand. It’s bloody. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Dumb question. Of course he’s hurt. Chanyeol cringes. “Can you stand?”

“I don’t know,” Travis groans. There’s a suspicious puddle of blood below him. He must’ve gotten caught on the barbed wire fence next to the building. Travis is blinking blearily up at him, and Chanyeol fears that he might lose consciousness. 

“May I carry you?” Travis nods, and Chanyeol gathers him up in his arms. He’s lighter than he looks, and Chanyeol is grateful for that. “I need you to stay awake, okay bud? Can you stay awake for me?” 

He angles the boy in his arms with his head facing away from the burnt body of the Horde member, just so he isn’t spooked. Chanyeol hasn’t blazed in a long time, for good reason, and he’s a little upset with himself for losing control. Travis’s skin is blistered, not too badly, but enough for Chanyeol to know that he’d gotten too hot. 

Travis’s apartment is on the second floor of a three-story building. Chanyeol considers himself a relatively fit person, but climbing the stairs with a body in his arms has him winded by the time he reaches Travis’s door. The latter blearily tells him where the key is in his jacket pocket, and Chanyeol gently sets him down to fish it out. When he starts swaying a little too much, Chanyeol picks him up again. 

His apartment is about the same size as Chanyeol’s: small. It’s a studio style, with the small kitchen/dining/living area off to the right of the door and his bed and bathroom to the left. Chanyeol gently deposits Travis onto his small mattress before turning on a light and grabbing a first aid kit from the kitchen. He helps Travis into a sitting position before lifting up his shirt, the latter hissing softly once the cool air of the apartment hits his wounds. 

It’s worse than Chanyeol had originally thought. 

Travis’s ribcage is all bruised, and Chanyeol has the sneaking suspicion that he might have a few broken ribs. His right side is completely blistered, and his back has an interesting blend of reds and purples and blues coloring his dark skin. His eyes are cloudy and unfocused, and he’s got a nasty gash on his right temple that needs dressing. 

Chanyeol sighs. He’s got his work cut out for him. 

He briefly considers taking Travis to a hospital, but the only one still functioning is on the other side of town, closer to Sunken Hill and Lost Foundry. Getting him there would entail taking the subway (completely unsafe at night) or a taxi, but they don’t come to this part of town, and Chanyeol hasn’t seen a bus in  _ years _ . 

He starts by cleaning up the blood on Travis’s face and hand, apologizing whenever Travis whimpers or hisses from the peroxide. Maybe he should’ve given him a drink before doing this, but oh well. Travis isn’t old enough to drink anyway. The gash on his temple looks bad, but not bad enough to require stitches, so Chanyeol just puts a large band aid over the wound, pressing a soft kiss to it to ground him. He gives Travis a few painkillers he found in his bathroom (they’re expired, but Chanyeol isn't chancing another trip outside. The Horde may or may not have found their dead comrade by now) to help with the pain from his ribs, then alternates pressing a package of frozen peas to his back and ribs. The blistering is taken care of with first aid cream. 

Travis holds still for all of Chayeol’s ministrations, only moving when Chanyeol asks him to turn this way or that. Only when Chanyeol starts packing all the bandages and creams away does he speak up. “Channie? Are you okay?”

Chanyeol looks at him, and doesn’t know how to answer. Now that the adrenaline from the attack has worn off, he’s starting to hate himself. He’d sworn off using fire for a reason, and a glance at Travis’s blistered side only validates it more. Fire is dangerous and untamable, destructive and uncaring. Chanyeol can’t let himself become that, not again. “I’m fine. Just rest.” Chanyeol starts to make his way towards the bathroom.

“Are you leaving?.”

Travis’s voice is small and tight, and there’s an edge to it that puts a halt to Chanyeol’s movements. When he turns around, Travis’s eyes are glassy, and he’s clutching his blanket in his small hands. He looks young and terrified, and something in Chanyeol breaks at the sight of him. 

“No, no I’m not leaving, bud. I just need to make a phone call” Chanyeol rushes to reassure him. And, really, who would leave anyone in such a state? 

Travis nods, and Chanyeol slips into the bathroom to clean his hands in the shower, purposefully avoiding the mirror. He can’t look at himself right now. 

Travis’s couch is more a loveseat than a sofa, and Chanyeol knows that he’ll have back problems for the next day or two from sleeping on it, but he nonetheless grabs a blanket from the set of drawers Travis points him to and tries to get comfortable, anyway. He’s out in a matter of minutes. 

⚑

It’s the sounds of shouting that wakes them up. Travis is still (understandably) too sore to get up from his bed without any assistance, so Chanyeol gets up to see what’s going on. 

When he gets outside, he wishes he hadn’t.

There’s smoke and debris everywhere, and the shouting is coming from a crowd gathering in front of a collapsed building. Chanyeol grabs a mask from the hooks Travis has hanging next to his front door before closing and locking it, descending the stairs to get a closer look at what’s happened. 

And… It’s confusing. Surely, they would’ve felt it if an earthquake would’ve come through. The city of Hyrath is located along the Western Coast of Sima, right along the Simanan-Pacific fault line. And if there had been an earthquake, surely there would be more damage than this. There’s a distant sound of ambulance sirens, but Chanyeol doesn’t see anyone hurt or injured from where he stands, and, strangely, no other buildings have been damaged aside from this one. Had they been bombed?

But a bombing is just as, if not more unlikely as an earthquake. Bombs are loud, and there definitely would’ve been more damage done if that were the case. Everyone else in the growing crowd seems just as confused as he is. 

But then someone moves a piece of drywall, and then another, and the silvery smoke starts to darken into a deep, dark purple, an eerily familiar shade of purple, and the crowd silences almost immediately as the pieces start to fall into place. A chill runs through Chanyeol, and his heart starts racing again. 

The collapsed building just so happens to be directly perpendicular to Travis’s apartment. 

But how…? Was someone else  _ there _ ? There had to be, and now that person knows where Travis lives, now the  _ Horde _ knows where Travis lives. That person now knows that Chanyeol isn’t an inert, maybe even knew before they were attacked. And they know that he and Junmyeon…

Chanyeol rushes back up the stars, back into Travis’s apartment. “We- we can’t stay here.”

Travis looks at him, confused. “Why? What’s wrong, Channie?” And it  _ sucks _ that he’s so banged up ( _ partially your own fault _ , Chanyeol’s mind unhelpfully supplies). It’d probably be easier- and safer- to get him to the subway, now that it’s the morning, but where would they go from there? The Horde has obviously been keeping tabs on him, so his place probably wouldn’t be the safest, and a majority of Travis’s family is out of the question. 

Chanyeol grabs his gun from where it rests in its holster on the coffee table, strapping it securely to his belt. He hadn’t taken a bag to work yesterday, so he grabs one of Travis’s and starts to stuff some of the latter’s clothing into it. He can steal some of Junmyeon’s if he can’t pack enough. 

“Chanyeol,” Travis calls, and the authority in his voice puts a halt to Chanyeol’s movements. He’s struggling to sit up on his own, so Chanyeol goes over to help him. “What’s going on? Why can’t we stay here?”

“I- I think we weren’t alone last night,” Chanyeol says, making a gesture to the door. The crowd is still outside, but there’s an anxious buzzing in place of the earlier shouting. He hears frantic footsteps coming from the unit above them. Someone else has the same idea as him. “And I think we might be in danger.”

Travis stares at him. “Didn’t you kill that weird guy who attacked us last night? Who else would be following us?”

Chanyeol exhales, and it comes out more agitated than he meant to. “That ‘ _ weird guy’ _ was a member of the Horde. They know where you live.”

Travis blanches, his eyes wide and alarmed. Part of his eyebrow disappears under his bandage. Chanyeol makes a note to pack his first aid kit. “W-where are we going, then?” He asks after a beat, after Chanyeol’s gone back to packing up his apartment. His voice is shaky. 

“Sehun lives close to the shelter, I’m taking you to his place.”

Sehun doesn’t work at the shelter with them, he’s a close friend of Chanyeol’s and is Jongin’s boyfriend. Sehun and Travis have an odd relationship. They’re brothers, both adopted, but they're far apart enough in age that they never got the chance to really bond. Sehun is like Chanyeol when it comes to Travis, protective, but he’s a lot more understated than Chanyeol is, and so Travis has it in his mind that Sehun hates him. Due to Sehun’s inept social ability, all of his attempts in showing Travis that that  _ isn’t _ the case have had… quite the opposite effect. He knows that Sehun wouldn’t think twice about letting Travis stay with him, even more so now that he may be in danger. Travis lets out an odd noise. 

“No, Sehun doesn’t hate you, okay, get that outta your head right now. You just need to stay with him for a little while, just until this whole thing blows over.”  _ If it blows over. _

“Why can’t I stay with you?”

Chanyeol turns back to him, and Travis looks like the small, scared little boy that Chanyeol had met all those years ago, barely tall enough to hold the broom in the shelter correctly and scared that he’d be all alone. It was Sehun who had gotten the shelter’s previous owner to let Travis work there, one of his attempts at showing the younger that he  _ did _ care that went over Travis’s head. “I don’t think I’m the safest person for you right now,” he glances down at the blistering along Travis’s arm, begins to hate himself again, “besides, he’s your brother, why not let him help you?”

Travis stares at him, worrying the blanket within his small hands. If he weren’t so intent on keeping Travis away from Junmyeon, he’d get the two of them to meet, see if Junmyeon has a place within his army of tiny, elemental magic users for him. He’d fit right in. Travis has a weird connection to the earth and life. Chanyeol hasn’t ever seen him utilize his magic, but he’s sure he’d be useful. But now is not the time for that. 

“Okay,” Travis nods. His voice is quiet, still a little unsure, but he nods nonetheless, smiling when Chanyeol pats his head. “Will you still walk me home?”

Chanyeol gives him a sad smile. Travis is too cute. “Maybe not for a while, bud. Sehun would, if you ask him.”

Chanyeol helps Travis stand up and walks him over to the bathroom to take care of himself (he lets him have his privacy, of course), before he pulls his phone out, glancing out the windows for anyone suspicious looking. 

Sehun picks up on the second ring. Consistent to a T. “Hello?”

“Something’s happened. Travis needs to stay with you for a while.” He wastes zero time in briefing Sehun on last night’s events, omitting a few things of course. Sehun is audibly upset about the attack, but he doesn’t hesitate in allowing Travis to stay with him, just like Chanyeol had expected. 

Travis is practically glued to his side the entire walk to Sehun’s apartment, and Chanyeol’s hand rests directly on his gun, his other arm securely around Travis. No one bothers them on the entire twenty minute walk, which Chanyeol is thankful for, but he’s still on edge. Sehun is waiting for them outside his building, his face falling once he sees the state that Travis is in. Chanyeol still hates himself. 

“Thanks for bringing him over here,” Sehun says, his arm hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure whether it's okay for him to put his arm around Travis or not. Travis only glanced at him once since they got there. Chanyeol feels for them both. 

This will be good for them.

⚑

In hindsight, maybe going straight to Junmyeon’s place (after a quick stop to his own apartment to freshen up, of course) while he’s probably on some Horde hit list may not have been the smartest idea, but as he lays under to his tiny lover in all of their post-orgasm glory, the thought gets shoved to the back of his mind. Junmyeon is still laying on top of him, and the sweat and semen between them feels gross and sticky. 

Chanyeol is still lodged inside of him, and they both groan when Junmyeon sits up to wash the two of them off. “So you wanna explain that bruise to me?” 

_ That bruise _ that he's talking about is a large, dark purple bruise that sits right in the middle of Chanyeol’s chest. 

Chanyeol’s stomach is wet, water still dripping from Junmyeon’s fingertips. It takes a moment for him to understand what Junmyeon asks him. “Something happened.”

Junmyeon narrows his eyes at him, still sitting on his dick, and he looks rather comfortable sitting there (Chanyeol, on the other hand…). “What happened?”

And Chanyeol recounted the events of the evening beforehand (with certain bits and pieces omitted and altered, of course). Junmyeon had finally,  _ finally _ , moved off of him about halfway through his fight with the Horde member, now laying next to him and listening with rapt attention. He raised an eyebrow at him when he’s finished. 

“You mean to tell me,” he starts, raising up to his elbow, “that you, alone, were attacked by a member of the Horde and he just  _ let you go _ ?”

He doesn’t believe him, and Chanyeol doesn’t blame him. It sounds ridiculous even to him. “Yes, that’s what happened.”

“And then they burned down a building near where you work as, what, a warning? There’s gotta be something you aren’t telling me.” Junmyeon’s red bangs fall into his eyes, and he fusses with them with a small hand, giving Chanyeol an agitated look. “They would’ve killed you on sight.”

“Maybe it wasn’t so much of a warning for me, as it was for you.” It’s been on Chanyeol’s mind ever since the attack. “They know we’re, you know,” Chanyeol gestures between them. “We’ve got a thing.”

Junmyeon goes silent for a moment, thinking. Chanyeol wishes he knew what was going through his big, beautiful brain. “You think they’re planning something?”

Chanyeol nods. The Horde had originally planned to seize power over Hyrath (then, eventually the entire country of Sima) after they assassinated President White. They were ruthless, violent in their attacks on the city and its leaders, and their little rebellion had resulted in a full, blown out war that drained Sima of its resources and weakened its already fragile government. It was the elemental magic users, spearheaded by Junmyeon and his army of tiny naturalists, and backed by Sima’s military, that eventually drove them to where they now (allegedly) reside in Ruined Hallow. Junmyeon still has a scar on his back from his battle with their leader, long and angry, that he refuses to talk about.

Hyrath has yet to fully recover.  _ Sima _ has yet to fully recover.

Now, Hyrath is just a shell of what it used to be. Their sad excuse for a “government” is about as stable as a house of cards on a windy day, and there are a ridiculous amount of people who had been (and still are) displaced by the war, cowering into alleyways and sleeping under unused, decrepit bridges by the hundreds. Their entire country is in shambles, and it was all due to the Horde.

Chanyeol isn’t sure that Hyrath will survive another Horde uprising.

If Hyrath were to fall to the Horde, then the rest of Sima would soon follow. Hyrath is its power source, holding a vast majority of its resources, and is home to almost all of Sima’s magic users because of that. Junmyeon and all of his men are sworn Horde enemies, Chanyeol doesn’t doubt that the Horde would execute them as their first order of business. 

That can’t happen. 

“I need you to promise me that you’ll stay safe,” Chanyeol says. Junmyeon stares at him. “I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to you.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying this to you?” Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. His small, small hand rests between them. Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate to grab it. “You’re an inert, afterall. You’re in more danger than I’d ever be in.”

“Just promise me.” 

“I promise I’ll do what I need to do when the time comes,” is what Junmyeon says. He turns his palm over to lace their fingers together. Chanyeol kisses his hand, making a small smile appear on his cute, tired face. “I can’t promise you that I’ll stay safe, but I promise to be as careful as I can be.” 

Chanyeol tugs him to his chest, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll take that, then. I just- you know I love you, right?”

Junmyeon doesn’t respond, not that Chanyeol expects him to, but the way Junmyeon melts against him tells him everything he needs to know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't realize how long it's been since i posted the first chapter. hopefully this one wasn't so bad. 
> 
> also!! i now have a twitter! you can follow me [twitter](https://twitter.com/glockmemoir) !! come cry over junmyeon with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice to Travis, he is just a sweet boy who I love with my whole heart. He won't come between jm and pcy I promise.
> 
> I now have a twitter!! You can follow me @glockmemoir!! come chat and bark (you read that right) about jm with me!!


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